Love is a Battlefield
by Samantha Joan
Summary: A Collection of Sam/Freddie one-shots. Current: He shrugged, a hand in his pocket. "Nothing – you're just...You're really good with her." Without warning her face flushed at the compliment and she found herself not able to break eye contact with him. -Sam comes over to help Freddie baby-sit.
1. Stress Relief

**Hola! So, I usually stick to Psych fanfic, posting my stuff on Psychfic – but alas the couple in that show has started to depress me. Thus, I decided to start with this Seddie one-shot story.**

**Hope you enjoy! **

Freddie walked into school, his mind focused on retrieving the biology book he needed from his locker. He shook his head._ Of course_ would he forget it when he needed to study for the next day. The quiet is almost deafening now, with all of the hustle of classes over with for the day. He approached his destination and started to enter his combination before all at once that silence is broken by an _extremely _loud and agitated groan coming from a classroom down the hall.

What the hell?

His head swerves behind him before he manages to turn back around to grab his book and shut his locker door closed. As he slowly made his way towards the classroom there's another frustrated huff and he_ swears _he's heard that particular huff before.

He's gotten quite used to it over the years.

But that goes against all semblance of reason, because there is no way _Sam Puckett_ would be in school any longer than **strictly** necessary.

There's one more eerily familiar moan while he neared the room until it's followed up by, "If you were meant to be read, you'd have pictures of ham on the cover!!" The tone of voice is equally frustrated and just as familiar.

He laughed quietly, leaning against the door frame, and smiled at the sight of the blonde.

Yeah, that was Sam, alright.

"You know, " he started informatively, moving towards the desk where she was sitting, "they say you've truly lost it when you start yelling at intimate objects."

She jolted her head up from the offending so-called book and looked up at the brunette boy with a scowl. This was _so _not what she needed right now. What was the dorkwad doing here anyway? She gave him the best growl she could –considering how exhausted she felt. "Don't make me pelt this at your head, _Fredward_."

Apparently he was hard of hearing today because the moron kept walking towards her. He continued grinning, and without a doubt the urge to throw the texbook at him was getting harding to resist. Pulling up a chair next to her, he turned it around backwards before straddling it to sit down. "My eyes must be playing tricks on me," he declared, rather too dramatically for her liking. "You're _actually_ studying for midterms?"

"I _will _hurt you, Benson."

He raised his hands up in mock defeat. "Sorry, sorry!" He caught a glimpse of the crumpled pieces of notebook paper that were sprawled out under her desk and returned his attention to her. "It's just that 'Sam' and 'studying' aren't exactly two words I would equate."

That's not exactly something she could argue with.

"Yeah well," she raised her hand in the air dismissively, refusing to look the nub in the eyes. "I guess it's better late than never."

She could_ feel _his eyes on her and that smug knowing smile of his growing across his face. How dare he use that smile against her! She_ taught _him that smile.

"And what may I ask are_ you_ doing here?" she pressed on, eager to make that smirk of his disappear as fast as she could.

He held up his bio book and waved it in the air. "Left it in my locker," he explained simply. "And don't change the subject, _Puckett_."

"How about you don't start with me, _Benson_?"

For the first time since he'd walked in to find her sitting there he looked at her. Really looked at her. Her blue eyes, ones that normally sparkled at any sign of an impending sparing match, seemed so tired now. He continued to study her, noticing the lose blonde curls of hers that fell in disarray around her shoulders. She seemed so worn out.

She must have been; any other time she would have already followed up on her threat to pelt a blunt object at him.

"This year's killer, huh?" he offered, quietly. "We're all stressed out this week," Which is probably why he hadn't put two and two together about the way she had been acting recently. He had been meaning to ask her about it, but out of fear of starting yet_ another_ fight with her and with the weight of his own exams creeping up on him, he had just let it slide.

He heard her mumble, "No kidding." before she buried her head down on her folded arms. He scooted forward on his chair wearing an empathetic smile.

"Sam, you'll be fine," he promised, and much to even his own surprised he really believed that. He knew that she was a lot smarter than she let on. Now within closer proximity to her, he took the opportunity to place his hands tentatively on her shoulders. He should have been fearing for his life at the moment but for whatever reason he didn't think she would protest too much given her current state.

"What on Earth are you doing?" she grumbled into her arms; her voice muffled by her sleeves and sounding more confused and out of it than angry. He smiled; she sounded cute.

"I, uh," he stopped and shrugged, "I'm just trying to help you relax." When she made no move to lift her head up to stop him, he kept up what he was doing, squeezing gently at the sides of her neck and then back to her shoulders.

Sam knew she should make him stop. Yell something about nerds like him not being allowed to touch her. But right now she didn't want to. Blame it on all the studying; it was definitely messing with her head. "Well it's not working," she chocked out. He laughed soundlessly, obviously not believing her.

Damn him.

Though she clearly didn't even believe herself. "How's this?" he asked, his voice low as he continued to work her shoulders – more firmly now – and it was all she could do from letting out a whimper. She bit her lip, refusing to give the dork the satisfaction and as she felt the tension in her muscles start disintegrate it dawned on her just how _well _he always seemed to know exactly what she needed.

His sympathy grew as she realized just how worn out she actually was if she was letting him do this without putting up a fight. He felt her shift, somewhat reluctantly, and his is right arm fell to his side while the other slide down her back as she slowly sat upright in her chair. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and she avoided his gaze for a second before he made out the small smile she was trying to bite back. He leaned forward against his chair and beamed back. "Better?"

She rolled her eyes at him half heartedly."_Better," _she clarified, motioning to the papers and textbook in front of her, "would be not having to deal with this crap at all." He just nodded as she let out an exasperated sigh. "I seriously don't see the point in all this." Picking up her pen to drum it on her desk, she then angled to face him with her widening eyes. "Couldn't I just run away to the circus or something?"

He couldn't help it, he laughed. "Sam, I think you're a bit old for the circus, don't you?"

"Oh, don't be so unimaginative, Fredward," she retorted and this time it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Carly and I could be traipse artists. It would be great," she continued, stifling a yawn.

He laughed again and then shook his head. "Hate to add yet another damper to your plan, Sammy– but you're also not that flexible."

It was was a new development with them; him calling her Sammy. He'd started for the sole purpose of bugging the hell out of whenever she'd throw a new and improved way of butchering his own name his way.

Though lately, the girl who was currently contemplating the possibility of running off to the land of cotton candy and clowns riding unicycles, didn't seem to mind all that much.

"Hey! I can be plenty flexible when I wanna be, Benson," she informed him matter- of-factly and he rose an eye brow at her in return. "Don't go getting any ideas, over there," she added quickly, raising a finger at him.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He smiled, noticing that her cheeks had turned a slightly brighter shade of pink.

"Not flexible my ass," she muttered. "And to think, I was going to let you come with us."

"Is that so?" he asked, tilting his head at her.

"Of course. Every circus needs a bearded lady, right?"she asked, in a bright mock-sweet tone.

How did she do that?

He scoffed. "I am _no_ lady, Sam. And I have no facial hair whatsoever." That latter part of his statement didn't do much to help his cause, he realized, cringing.

Expecting her to immediately take the bait, he was surprised when she just started to laugh and then raised her hand to his cheek. He found himself holding his breath as she ran her fingers down his clean shaven face. "No you don't," she mused and then giggled again.

His eyes met hers and for some reason that he had a hard time discerning at the moment, his heart started racing. "And _you _don't need the circus," he finally managed softly.

Sam's voice clenched in her throat. The comment was made lightly, but the warm inflection in his voice coupled with the look of reassurance he was giving her with those huge brown eyes of his – well, it did stupid things to her heart and stomach.

"Good to know," she answered, matching his hushed tone.

After a charged moment she looked away – she had to – and her eyes settle on his biology book. She inhaled for a second and recognized that he was probably just as stressed, if not more than she was given the honors classes the brilliant nerd had decided to take. She turned her head back to him slowly and he randomly tugs at one of her blonde curls. She bite her lip. "So, bio exam tomorrow?"

He glanced at the book and then sighed deeply with a nod. "Yup."

She smiled, and nodded curtly back at him. "Turn around," she ordered.

He looked at her blankly and then shook his head in confusion. "What?"

Oh, the nub.

"Turn. Around," she repeated more firmly.

He looked at her quizzically and then did as he's told. (That's also something he's become used to in the span of knowing her.) A second later and he felt her hands land on his shoulders, and he instinctively jerked at the contact. "Sam, what are you doing?"

There was a pause and he assumed it's because she's rolling her eyes. He could almost hear her smirk. "Just shut up and let me return the favor, okay, Benson?"

Her fingers started to press harder – yet the feel is surprisingly gentle considering the girl. "Okay, then," he breathed.

And all of a sudden he's not at all sorry that he forgot his book.


	2. Why Rock the Boat?

**Finally a new chapter! =] The last (even though it contained both Sam/Freddie POV) focused on Freddie a little bit more so here we have a _slightly_ more Sam-esque feel. **

**And this is a good a time as any to mention my non-ownage of the show. So...**

**--Insert traditional disclaimer here--**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam stared down at her food – chicken marsala – and for once in her whole entire life she wasn't hungry. She sighed and looked across the room wondering _why in the hell _she had agreed to come here in the first place. Her gaze settled on the brunette across the room, giggling not-so-quietly with her arms draped around her date.

Oh, _that _was why.

Why couldn't she ever say no to that girl?

"So, we having fun yet?"

_And _not only was she stuck on this God forsaken Junior Cruise, she was stuck here with _him_. (Obviously, Freddie of all people had never been one to say no to Carly either.) She rolled her eyes and put her fork down. "Yeah, loads and loads of fun, Benson. Buckets worth."

He smirked at her and suddenly she felt very obligated to throw something at him.

"Sam, what the hell?" He brushed off the piece of broccoli that she had hurled in his direction, a sharp glare quickly replacing that grin of his.

Mission accomplished.

She smiled innocently and shrugged. "You know how much I hate vegetables."

"Whatever, Sam. You know, it's not like being here with _you_ is my cup of tea either," he retorted while the blonde just huffed and took a sip of her drink.

"Cup of tea?" She chuckled lightly and rolled her eyes at him – surprising they didn't fall out of their sockets given how often they did that at one another. "Only you."

Freddie just shook his head before taking in the sight of her still almost full plate; he had a distinct feeling he knew the reason for his friend's uncharacteristic behavior.

"It's funny, isn't it?" He paused for a moment, meeting her eyes. "How we always wind up here."

She tilted her head at him with a wide-eyed stare. "And where's that?"

"Together."

Honestly, he wasn't exactly sure how it happened or even _when _it had started happening, but more and more lately this seemed to be a reoccurring pattern with them.

There'd be a party – the last was Rachel Morrison's – or some other event that required a "plus one" and the entire student population would begin pairing off as if they were on Noah's Arc. Carly would always have a date within days, and nowadays it ceased to bother him in the slightest.

What _did _bother him was her insistence that he and Sam show up to whatever it was as well.

It wasn't even to say that he had trouble finding girls that were interested in him...it just so happened that they never seemed to hold _his _interest.

And apparently the same held for Sammy.

They both had dated other people – and Jay Nichols had even asked her on the cruise tonight (Sam just exclaiming that the jock was nothing more than a meat head and not worth her time) –but regardless they always seemed to end up right where they were now.

She groaned and he could tell that he might have just risked getting pelted with another vegetable.

"Flippin' hysterical," she managed to mutter. This was like some warped version of Murphy's Law – her and Freddie sitting around a table or standing – whatever – left to look on at all the sickeningly sweet couples around them that either _mistakenly _thought they were dating themselves, or inflicted their pitty on them for being the odd ones out.

She wasn't sure which one pissed her off more.

It may have been just her imagination but she could swear that his face fell for just a second at her response. She quickly dismissed this, the very idea being lunacy. After all, he didn't want to be here with her any more than she did...

Sam watched him take a short breath and all at once he was up on his feet and making his way towards her. She looked from her left to her right instinctively, checking whether or not it was_ in fact _her that he was moving to before looking back at him."What are you doing?"

He looked looked down at his shoes for a second, his hands in his pant pockets, and then moved forward even further so that he was standing over her chair.

The kid really needed to stop getting so tall.

He tilted his head in the direction of the dance floor. "What do you say?"

She rose an eye brow at him; _clearly_ he'd lost his mind. "You're joking, right?"

"Sam, we can either sit here sulking _or _we could _try_ to have a good time," he informed her, and as much as she _hated_ doing so, she had to admit he had a fairly decent point.

He kept those huge brown eyes of his_ locked _with hers and suddenly it was making her feel way more off balance than it should have – especially considering she was still sitting down.

"Dance with me."

He held out his hand slowly. "Unless you don't think you can keep up, Puckett." He gave her a an innocent-but-completely-_not_ look and another smirk that either made her want to _seriously_ deck him, or made her kind of proud.

Kind of.

Bitting her lip for a second before she finally took his outstretched hand, she sighed.

"Whatever, _I'm_ leading."

---

Maybe it was just a matter of her being one of his best friends, but there was this _familiarity _that came along with hanging with Sam on nights like this. The mundane pressure of having to impress some date and all of the formalities that came along with it got tiresome after awhile –and not that'd she _ever _say it out loud but he knew that it didn't bother her _as much_ as she claimed it did either.

Her shinning blue eyes gave her away each time.

He spun her around, admiring the way her blonde curls and navy blue dress twirled simultaneously. The dress choice had been Carly's, of course, but the girl _definitely_ wore it very well.

She looked amazing.

"Whoah, you been taking ballroom lessons in your spare time, Fredward?" She blinked up at him, obviously fighting back a smile as he dropped his hands to her waist.

He laughed and leaned in towards her. "Impressed?"

She looked away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her other arm around his shoulder. "As if."

He smiled; he'd let that blush of hers slide for now.

They continued to dance, being this close to her allowing him to take in the scent of her coconut shampoo as it tickled his nose, as well as the feel of the silk of her dress beneath his fingertips.

Weird how abruptly he found that his heart was pounding out of his chest.

_Weirder_ how she seemed to fit better in his arms than anyone else ever did.

Sam stepped back – just far enough to see his face and the way he was just_ looking _at her kind of made her feel like she'd just gotten off a roller coaster; extremely dizzy with all of the blood still rushing to her head.

"_What?_"

He simply shrugged and now he had a hand pressing softly against the small of her back. "Nothing."

She automatically shivered (obviously the idiots have the air conditioner on_ much_ too high in here) and then just shook her head at his usual _nubness. _

Her alternative for the evening –Nichols – caught her eye, it dawning on her now that she may have gotten off easy.

She didn't have to worry about lame ass pick up lines or about some guy trying to grope her at the end of the night – _nor _did she have to hide her complete and utter_ hatred_ for these functions in the first place (or any other sort of event that would entail classic daffodil-like behavior) and pretend that all of it _didn't_ make her want to puke her guts out.

With Freddie she could just be...well, she could just _be_.

Her head soon turned to face him slowly. He was smiling way too big and _way _too wide and she cleared her throat attempting to avoid his gaze before _literally_ losing her balance.

Damn heels.

He caught her instantly – it still surprised her how strong he's gotten. "Uh, you alright there, Sammy?" he asked. Much to her annoyance she felt her cheeks grow warm while he was keeping her up and trying not to break out into a massive grin.

"Fan-freakin'-tastic, _Fredward_."

She straightened herself up and took a breath, a sigh escaping as he gently started to brush a strand of hair out of her face.

With his hands on her back again he got close...close enough that she started to think that he might be foolishly considering doing the _unthinkable_ – and that's as far as _her _thought process went because with him going and invading her space like that she somehow can't seem to breathe.

"So," he whispered, his breath warm and _dangerously_ close to her face, "we having fun yet?"

Her eyes widened and she just looked up at him (seriously, the height thing? Obnoxious) apparently having gone mute while _out of nowhere _her stomach is doing _the _most annoying set of somersaults she'd ever encountered.

Clearly, that's the last time she ever skips a meal.

He laughed soundlessly and spun her around one more time. She landed against his chest with his arms wrapped around her and his breathing against her neck – equally dumbfounded and _extremely_ unnerved by the fact that _stuck _is the last thing she was feeling right now.

* * *

**Yes, I use_ way_ too many italics. *Fail.* Hope it read well regardless! =D **


	3. Three Words for You Part I

_**Three Words For You**_

_**(Five Times Sam didn't say I love you, and the one time she did.)**_

**Back in the Seddie mood thanks to iOMG next weekend. :) Trying my hand at established Seddie - hope it's not TOO mushy. =P Posting these connected six drabbles (an arc if you will) two chapters at a time.  
**

They were at the Wild Waves theme park the first time he'd said it.

They'd spent most of the day on the water rides –– Gibby still enjoying any opportunity to go shirtless.

And then Freddie had to go and dare her to go on the Sky Dive. Did the boy not know who he was dating? _Of course_ she'd agreed...On one condition.

"No way are you getting me up there, Puckett."

"Yes way."

"Not a chance."

She gave him a stare and tilted her head.

He sighed. "I know I'm going to regret this."

Harnessed and ready to go, she made a jab about him being scared, naturally.

She saw something in his face when she looked back at him. He was nervous, but there was something else to it...

She took his hand and smiled. "You jump, I jump, Jack."

He returned the smile and took a short breath before tightening his grip on her hand.

"I love you, Sam."

She'd frozen up.

Whatever she'd been expecting to hear, that wasn't it.

_"I'm about to puke,_" maybe. But not that.

She opened her mouth to speak, but managed nothing but a strangled gasp for air.

"You guys ready to go?"

Truth is, her heart had stopped long before her feet even left the ground.

* * *

They were arguing that morning - nothing out of the ordinary for them.

She had just stopped short of dumping her latte over her "I'm-always-right-_you're_-the-one-overreacting," boyfriend's head.

She got inside the car, nothing about being up at this Godly hour helping her mood.

"So what? You're just not going to speak to me the rest of the way? Since when are you the silent treatment type?"

"Freddie, I swear Ill deck you."

"Ah, she speaks."

She just turned on the radio.

He pulled along side the school to let her out. She grabbed her bag, not sure if she was more pissed at him or having to work on this b.s assignment with her lab partner.

"You're welcome for the ride, by the way. And breakfast."

She huffed and slammed the door behind her.

She'd started walking away when she heard the windows roll down. "Love you too, Sammy."

Stopping short, her breath caught in her throat. His tone was light, and she knew he was just being a smart ass.

But she also knew he meant it.

She turned around and cocked her head, not betraying the fact that she couldn't breathe.

"_Tolerate you_, Fred-head."

**Just warming up for the rest. ;) The cheesiness increases to an extreme level by the last one. (The rest are longer as well.) And thanks so much for the alerts/favorites on the last two chapters. **


	4. Three Words for You Part II

**Oh look, an update. :) Gracias for the lovely comments/alerts and so forth. =]**

* * *

She remembers they were watching a movie the next time he said it.

They were in his room, on his bed, and Sam was never more grateful for the "Pre Empty Nest Syndrome" seminars that kept his mom out of town.

Nights like these were her favorite; all alone with him with nowhere to go.

They'd goof off on his computer, look at random videos of babies babbling or Harry Potter parodies –– whatever struck their mood at the time.

It was like their own little haven, filled with songs from his Pear Pod speakers, and the string of tiny Christmas lights they'd both agreed should be up all year round.

She snuggled into his chest, her eye lids starting to feel heavy as the voices on the screen became faint drones.

Soon she could feel his eyes on her as she drifted in and out of sleep.

And not in the freaky sparkling vampire kind of way (Bella _really_ should have gotten a restraining order.)

But this...this didn't freak her out. It made her feel taken care of.

Safe.

His hand brushed over the side of her face and she burried herself deeper into the fabric of his hoodie.

"I love you so much, " she heard him whisper.

She'd simply pretended to be asleep.

* * *

She had been tipsy.

_Very tipsy._

Finals were over, and now there was nothing left to do but celebrate and wait for Summer to come.

Their last Summer together before everything changed.

But she hadn't wanted to think about that.

All she wanted to do was lose herself in this night and commit it to memory forever.

And to drink vodka. Lots and lots of vodka. (She was really thankful her mom had dated that bouncer.)

She looked over at her best friends, Carly, Ryan, Gibby, his girlfriend, and last at the boy next to her.

She smiled. "Hey you," she said, a little more loudly than she'd intended. "You're the best, you know that?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Okay, that's it. I'm cutting you off." He laughed again and moved her drink away.

"Nooooo," she whined, pouting her lips.

"Here, have some of my water."

The next thing she knew, the bartender was announcing that karaoke was beginning and before she could stop herself she was issuing a loud, "woot!" and volunteering.

She chose Teenage Dream.

Sam had always had a good voice on her, but she never really cared to flaunt it. Though tonight, in her alcohol induced haze, she really didn't seem to care.

Sometime during the course of the song, she'd managed to abandon the stage and walk over to their table...and next to Freddie.

"Just one touch, now baby I believe..."

She stared to muss with his hair as she sang, fully enjoying the two parts baffled, one part amused look on his face.

Grabbing his hand she placed it over her thigh as he widened his eyes and cleared his throat.

She smirked. "Let you put your hands on me, in my skin tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight..."

Sam ended the song with a "thank you, thank you," over the applause, and in Freddie's lap, arms draped around him.

He shook his head at her smiling. "Wow." She ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck before kissing him.

Pulling back slowly, he cupped her cheek with one hand, the other around her waist.

"Love you, crazy girl."

She wasn't sure if it was his words, the way he was looking at her, _or_ the numerous shots of vodka that was suddenly doing funny things to her stomach.

Maybe it was a combination of all three.

She hopped off his lap. "I...gotta go to the bathroom."

* * *

**1.) Fun Facts told us nothing of substance. (Didn't think he'd spoil...but wanted _s__omething_.) Eh, such is life.**

**2.) Seddie needs to happen. It just does. **

**3. And thanks for reading! Reviews are golden, if you are so inclined. **

**:)  
**


	5. Three Words for You Part III

**UMMM, I'm RIDICULOUSLY giddy from last night's episode. Seriously. Jennette KILLED it, and it was adorable and perfect. :) I know they'll be a BILLION tags soon (if they're aren't already...) but after this, I kind of want to throw mine into the ring. What say you? Yes? No? Maybe so?  
**

**Though first...The final two drabbles in this little arc! Enjoy, sending happy Seddie thoughts to everyone! :)**

* * *

She honestly had _no _idea why she'd agree to go on that little trip with him that day. She was perfectly content to lounge around his place watching a movie...eating his ham.

Until he'd insisted on taking her sailing.

He gave her that sad puppy dog pout with those huge brown eyes of his, and she'd caved. (Maybe she was getting a little soft.)

"Um, Freddie, the wind is dying down. We're going to stall."

"Sam, we're fine. I checked the wind conditions this morning."

And yet barely a minute later and the warm breeze they'd been experiencing had slowed down to a dead halt.

"Hey, Benson..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

She rolled her eyes. "See _this _is why we should have stayed in."

He glared back at her. "No, Sam._ This_ is why you shouldn't have gotten pissed and thrown the other oar overboard!"

"Yeah, well, we got the other one, don't we? Start rowing, Sailor Boy."

He sighed and moved over so he was sitting next to her. "You know what? I have a better idea."

He bent down under the seat and into the cooler to take out two drinks; an iced tea for him, cola for her.

"Let's enjoy the view."

For once, she didn't argue.

She just took the coke with a nod, grateful for the opportunity to spend this alone time with him.

Until, of course, they'd started fighting again.

"Sam, I honestly don't know what you're talking about. Rachel does not like me like that."

She huffed in response. "Yeah, and next you're going to tell me that Gibby_ isn't _a mermaid."

He laughed. "You're still on that? Let it go, Sammy."

"Ugh, not the point, man! I'm telling you, she's into you. Parading around P.E in those short shorts and her, 'oh it would be so great if you could help me with my serve.'"

"Right." He rolled his eyes at her, half heartedly, before his lips curved into a smug smile that she _so _wanted to smack him for. (Even it was kind of adorable.) "I think it's cute you're jealous."

"I'm sorry, do you want me to throw _you_ overboard too?"

He just smiled at her empty threat and inched closer to her. "Sam, you know it doesn't matter if Rachel is 'into me' or whatever, okay?"

He wrapped his arms around her and instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Because I love _you_."

She blinked up at him, the warmth of his smile making her feel more light headed than the boat ride possibly could have.

"I know you do," she finally whispered back.

* * *

_**And the one time she did...**_

It was his birthday.

There were candles, and a dinner –– that she _actually_ - cooked herself, and about an hour and a half of lost time spent curling her hair.

Oh, the things she did for that boy...

He had been thoroughly surprised, which was her intention all along.

Freddie had expected a dinner out with their friends (which did happen the next night) but she wanted she wanted this night...to be just them.

She was standing over the spot on the floor in her small living room, where she'd arranged everything when he'd walk in.

"Oh wow..."

Sam turned around to see him, mouth wide open, stunned at the display of food, candles, and wine.

She normally _hated_ wine.

But, tonight she'd make an exception.

"So," she walked towards him slowly and smiled, trying her best to not trip in the damn heels she was wearing. "Are you going to stand there gawking, or are you going to join me for dinner, Birthday Boy?"

His gazed fixed over her dress, which she'd picked out with Carly just for tonight (black with tiny sequins all over it), and if she were one to blush...she would have then.

He smirked. "How about I gawk for a little bit longer?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Down boy."

"You really do look amaz-"

Sam effectively cut him off with a kiss, wrapping one hand around his neck, the other tugging on his light blue button down shirt (that she _absolutely_ adored on him).

"-ing," he murmured quietly, gracing her with the smile that she adored even more.

"Happy Birthday." She looked at him through her lashes before taking his hand to lead him to sit on the floor next to her.

"Happy birthday, indeed."

Throughout the entire meal - potato puffs to start, penne in vodka sauce, chocolate covered banana slices (he was allergic to strawberries) and a birthday cupcake for desert - she couldn't keep from just _looking_ at him.

Great, now _she_ was the one gawking.

He smiled at her, tilting his head and setting his glass down. "Why are you looking at me like that?" He patted his chin for a second still trying to read her expression. "What, do I got food on my chin or something?"

She laughed soundlessly, the bubbling in her stomach she _wished_ could attribute to the wine, increasing by the second. "No, you're alright."

It wasn't the wine.

Or the adrenaline rush from a jump off the the stupid sky drive or a from a fight.

It wasn't the lull of old made for T.V movies as she fell asleep.

And it wasn't the feeling of being inebriated, singing on the top of her lungs - or the constant swaying of the waves as they sailed.

It was _him._ Always him.

He was the _only_ thing (only _one)_ that could ever get to her, and make her feel the way she did.

Off balance, on edge,_ completely out of control_ and _ridiculously_ happy all at the same time.

She was never one for defining emotions, and worse for _voicing_ them. (Unless it involved anger, or frustration...or any another emotion that entailed really loud yelling.)

Though looking at him now, the last guy she'd ever imagined she'd fall for -she felt it was finally time for another exception.

"I'm looking at you like this," she took the deepest breath she could and inched forward, "because, I'm in love with you."

His eyes widened at her, and she had never felt her heart beat so fast in her entire life, before he put aside his red velvet cupcake and slid towards her, kissing her cheek slowly.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

* * *

**Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?**

**:)  
**


	6. Shut Up and Drive

Hola, mi amors! :) Look at me all posting an update and whatnot - proud of me? Hoping I still managed to keep these two IC as I continue writing them older+ growing closer. Heading back into "non-established" territory in their relationship for a bit. Because, come on...we all know it's the "will they, or won't they," tension that keeps us coming back for more with our ships.3

* * *

He must have been out of his mind –– there was no other explanation.

Because no sane person, under _any_ circumstances, would ever get in the car with Sam Puckett behind the wheel.

Yet here he was in the school parking lot, not only about to drive with her, but willingly giving her lessons.

In his car.

If ever there were a time to plead temporary insanity, it would be now.

"Sam, remind me again why I'm doing this?"

She groaned, adjusting herself in the drivers seat to face him. "My birthday's in two weeks, Benson! I need to pass the test."

He smirked at her teasingly. "Wow, a test you _actually_ care about passing. This is new."

"Bite me."

He laughed soundlessly and tilted his head as if considering it. "No thanks." When the only response he got was a roll of her eyes he pressed on. "And that's not what I meant. I mean why am_ I_ the one giving you lessons?"

She took a sip of her fat cake smoothie before placing it back in the cup holder. "Because I asked you to?"

"And where's Jay?"

Nobody was more surprised than Freddie last month when Sam had announced to him and Carly that she'd finally agreed to go on a date with the JV football player.

"He's different when you get to know him, okay?" she'd said, and after nearly chocking on the shock of news, Freddie had relented to be happy for her.

Sam sighed. "He has extra practice for the rest of the week. You know this."

"Your mom?"

She let out a laugh. "Freddie, do you really think it would be a good idea for me to learn how to drive from my _mother_?"

She had him there.

"Okay," he smiled and turned towards her. "You know all the gears, right?"

Her eyes lit up, and a smug grin crossed her features. "I knew you'd see it my way."

"Don't I always?" he retorted, more than a little sarcastically –– though come to think of it this did beat a day at home studying for AP bio.

"Eventually. So," she paused looking at him expectantly, "the gears?"

He nodded. "First, second, and third." He started going through the differences between them, when she'd need to shift, and to his surprise, she just listened patiently.

"Hey, you know that manual transmissions avoid the power requirement of the hydraulic control system, by relying on the human muscle power of the driver to disengage the clutch and actuate the gear levers?"

Sam just blinked and shook her head at him.

"What?"

She rested her hand under her chin. "It just amazes me that you're still single with talk like that."

He shot her a glare before sitting back in his seat. "Even more amazing you're not."

"Oh, I'm just messing with you, dude." She angled herself to face him more and bit her lip. "Now what?"

Sighing, he offered a half smile before motioning upwards. "Rear-view mirror adjusted?"

Sam nodded, reaching her hand up to angle the mirror. "Check."

"Side mirrors?"

She looked from her left to right, gaging if she would be able to see properly. "Check and check."

"Acknowledging that I am_ the_ best guy friend ever for doing this?"

"Check."

He smirked.

And she smacked his arm.

She frowned, facing forwards again. "I can't believe I just fell for that."

He rubbed his arm, and shrugged. "Happens. But you _did_ forget something." He turned and leaned over her slowly, causing her eyes to swell like a bugs'.

"Your seatbelt," he explained, softly, taking a brief moment to smile up at her after the click of the buckle.

She made an almost inaudible sound in the back of her throat, somewhere between a gulp, and hum, before mumbling a small "thanks."

"You good to go?" he asked, fastening his own belt, the tint of red that had flashed across her cheeks still amusing him.

"Yeah, Benson –– let's take this puppy for a spin, shall we?" She grinned one of her infamous_ Sam _grins. The one that usually meant he was in for a whole lot of trouble.

He took a breath. "Well, then, let's do this."

Out. Of. His. Mind.

* * *

"_Sam_." Freddie took a breath and released his death-like grip on the overhead handle. "The speed limit is _not _like Parlay. They're not just guidelines."

She laughed as if what he'd said was completely ridiculous and absently rested her and on his knee, making him flinch. "You are way too uptight, Benson."

Freddie huffed. "No, Sammy, I just don't have a death wish."

He smiled when she gave him a mock agitated glare over the use of her nickname. "_And _you almost slammed into that Maxima."

"She was going too slow!"

"It was an old lady!"

She just shrugged; he sighed.

"Though," he paused and unbuckled his seat belt to face her, "besides that you're actually not a...horrible driver."

Sam grabbed her fat shake and took a long sip. "Mhmm."

He raised an eye-brow at her –– was he missing something here?

"No snarky retort?"

She bit her lip, placing the cup back in the holder. "Nope."

"Okay, what's up?" he asked, now officially convinced she was not telling him something.

He could always tell.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she deadpanned.

"_Sam." _

He watched her suppress a smile, before undoing her own belt.

"I've been taking my mom's car since I was 13, Freddie."

_Of course_ she has.

"_Okay..._Not surprised. But then why did you-"

She shrugged, and much to his amusement, she actually looked the tiniest bit sheepish. "You've been busy with AV and your brilliant _nerd_ classes...I had dance everyday last week and between that and me seeing Jay-" Pausing she a ran her finger through a loose curl. "Seems like the only time we_ actually _see each other is during English or iCarly rehearsal..."

He blinked.

Was he hearing her right?

"You...wanted to spend time with me," he mused, unable to keep the ever-so-slight trace of smugness out of his voice.

She faced the steering wheel again. "I just missed having someone around to mock, got it?" She turned towards him and flashed a quick smile before unlocking her door and stepping out. "Now, drive me home."

He shook his head as she shut the door, and just watched as she made her way over to his side of the car.

"Whatever you say, mi querida." Getting out of the car, he smiled to himself before getting into the driver's seat.

"Forgetting something?"

He turned towards her as she bent down and fastened his seat belt over him.

She gleamed at him, and it took a second for him to catch his breath to turn the key.

...Even if her driving didn't do it, this girl was still going to be the death of him.

Sitting back Sam turned on the radio and propped her elbow up on the edge of the open car window.

Freddie turned his head to look at her, a thought crossing his mind.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

He grinned. "You, uh, know how to drive stick?"

She looked back at him, holding his gaze for a second and then perused her lips innocently. "As a matter of fact, I don't."

Freddie smiled back and then faced the road again.

It was a difficult job, but _someone_ had to do it.

* * *

Yeeeeees, our Sam has a boyfriend now. Well, at least in my little iCarly universe I've made up here. Don't kill me? ;) And I hope you guys don't mind me kind of moving forward/back on the little time line I've set up as well.

Peace, love, and cookies.3


	7. The Talk: The Art of Gentics

**Skipping ahead now, and thought a conversation with her mom would be something our Sammy would need before she ever went through with an engagement. :)  
**

* * *

Sam barely registered when her mother entered the kitchen. Or, her sister for that matter, who had been standing behind her by the fridge grabbing her iced tea.

"She's been sitting there for a half hour," she heard Melanie say, addressing their mom. "Figured she'd be more likely to listen to you..."

She turned around in her chair. "I can hear you guys. You know that, right?"

"Sorry, Sam, I love you, but you know how stubborn you can be and I-"

"Mel," Pam cut in. "Can you..." She trailed off and Melanie nodded.

"Say no more. I'll be upstairs."

Sam gave a wave of dismissal as her sister walked away. "Chao."

"Cut her some slack, Kid. She's just looking out for you."

The only response she offered back was an aggravated huff. "Look, I didn't ask for her advice okay?" she added after a minute, still glancing down at her palm.

"Whoa daisy," her mom observed, putting her hand over eyes for dramatic effect. "That is definitely some rock you got there. I think," she stopped and felt her eye, "yeah, my cornea is bruised," she finished nodding.

She glared."You're hilarious, Ma."

"I like to think so."

Sighing, Sam drummed her free hand on the wood table. "He, um, he wanted me to keep it while I made up my mind."

"Smart boy," Pam mused. "Hard to say no with that on your finger."

Sam glared.

"Sorry, but I'm not really seeing the down side here, kiddo."

"You know, I didn't really ask for _your_ advice either."

Why couldn't they just leave her alone?

Now it was her mother's turn to glare. "Well, that's too bad, 'cause you're going to it anyway - free of charge. Because I'm just _that_ generous."

She rolled her eyes, now wishing that a hole would suddenly appear beneath her feet and swallow her up. "Joy."

"You're not me, Sam."

Jarred by the statement, Sam shifted in her chair to meet her mom's gaze. "What?"

"You're not me," Pam repeated, slowly, moving forward to brush a strand of hair away from Sam's face. "I know that..." She paused and took a deep breath. "I know I haven't been the best person for you to look up to when it comes to this...stuff. I drove your father away -"

"Mom-"

"And I've had more men come in and out of here than I have shoes," she pressed on before tilting her head. "More than the amount of times Carmine's been in prison..."

Her uncle _did_ get incarcerated a lot...

Leave it to her mother to make this all about her.

"Okay, mom, you really need to stop. Like_ now._" Sam got up from the table, walking over to the sink, absently stating to look out the window. "Just let me think in peace, will you?"

Her mom got up after her, placing her hand on the small of her back. "You know, they always say you fight the most with the one that's most like you."

Sam sighed and turned around, resigned to the fact that her mom wasn't about to listen to her and let this drop. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, that is so." She smiled, twirling a strand of Sam's hair. "I love Mel-Bell from here to the next Fourth of July, okay...but _you_? You're the daughter that I see myself in."

She smirked. "Lucky me?"

Pam rolled her eyes at her. "And there's my undeniable wit! How charming."

Sam just turned back around pretending to be fascinated by the squirrel currently climbing up their tree.

"Kid, I'm going to say this to you as kindly as I possibly can...Don't be an idiot, alright?"

She laughed. "And that's as kind as you can?"

"Are you in love with him?"

"Ma, that's not the-"

"Sam," her mom cut her off, "simple question. Easy as pie. Do. You. Love. Him?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe that he really loves you?"

"Yes," she shot back automatically.

"Well then, yes," Pam responded, with a shrug. "That was as kind as I could possibly be."

Sam just looked down at her shoes. "Since when do you get to be right?" she mumbled.

"Hey, I'm always right!"

"Like the time when I was twelve and you dated that animal wrangler from North Dakota and he-"

She shrugged. "Okay, okay so I've been wrong a time or two in my lifetime. Sue me."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "that's exactly what the zoo did when he tried to free all the animals and-"

"_Riiiiight_," Pam stopped her, holding up her palm, "well, let's focus on the matter at hand, alright, Miss?"

She tilted her head. "No, I'm good. I think we're done here."

"Alight, alright, I get the message_ loud_ and clear," her mom, conceded. "I'll butt out. But Sam?"

"Yes, mother?" she droned, albeit, over-dramatically.

"Whatever your fears are, Kiddo, you're just gonna have to get over it and plow right on through. 'Cause I assure you if you don't, you'll look back and find yourself...Alone. Wishing you hadn't given up on what made you happy."

Sam blinked, getting a glimpse of a rare sincere Pam that she was never really sure how to react to when she showed up.

"There won't be a second chance, Sammy. Trust me."

She pulled her mom into a hug, whispering a quiet "thanks," before walking back over to the kitchen table. She took a breath before picking up the ring from off the place mat and slipping it on her finger.

A perfect fit.

"Oh, and mom?" She glanced back at Pam who was about to head upstairs. "Dad was an idiot."

Her mom laughed and shook her head. "Good to know." She smiled, issuing a final wave. "G'Night, my little monster...I gotta get a wax in the morning."

She smiled. "Good night, Ma."

Alas, at least she knew, _some_ things would never change.

* * *

**1.) Hope Pam is IC!:) **

**2.) Thinking of a prequel with Freddie proposing, and a sequel with Sam finally accepting. Interested?  
**

**3.) New episode tomorrow! So psyched. 3  
**


	8. A Way Back

**So, every chapter within this has pretty much been AU, set with my own timeline - though I never go against anything canon, specifically. However, after iStill Psycho, I wanted to write a tag...So here it is. :)**

* * *

_**"I know that if we give this a little time, it'll only bring us closer to the love we wanna find."**_

* * *

She'd been quiet the whole way back to Carly's. At first he'd chalked it up to recent events getting to her, but then he remembered this was _Sam_.

Things really don't get to her for long.

Besides, they were safe and sound away from the family of freaks – and she got to use her shock pen on them.

He'd say that was a win.

He cleared his throat before nudging her.

She snapped her head towards him expectantly.

"You okay?"

"After being held hostage for the past thirteen hours?" She rolled her eyes. "I'm peachy."

"Alright, Sam." He sighed. "No need for the attitude."

"Whatever." She grabbed her Pear pod out of her bag and put her headphones in, not saying a another word.

Yeah, that went well.

...

She's relieved they're out of that hellhole, but a part of her is still on edge.

And not because of the wanna be Adam's family.

Sam's more than just on edge, she's _angry_.

She hasn't been this angry with him (for real) in a really, really long time.

Carly convinced her to stick around with a celebratory dinner, a still dizzy Spencer agreeing to make spaghetti tacos for the occasion.

"Hey, Sam -" She paused and looked up from eating her taco at the sound of her name. "Can you pass the parmesan?"

"I'm eating," she said flatly.

He puts his fork down giving her a look. "It's _right _next to you."

"I know." She stuffed her mouth with another bite, pointedly ignoring the annoyed shake of his head as Carly passed it to him.

Well, good.

He'd apparently rather have_ her _do things for him anyway.

...

Carly was escorting a wobbly Spencer to his room to lay down while the movie played, Sam's attention glued to the screen.

"You're staring."

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired, finally, still looking at her profile, because she refused to turn her head to him.

She coughed and turned the volume on the T.V up. "You just did."

He shook his head and made a move to grab the remote from her to turn the movie off.

"Benson, what the-"

He managed to wrestle it away from her and she swatted his arm –– hard–– as he clicked the power button.

"Dude, what is your glitch?"

"_My_ glitch?" he snarled back. "You've been in a mood with me the whole night!"

"Gee," she put her hand to her chest,"I'm sorry that being_ trapped, _doesn't turn me into Miss-Freaking-Sunshine."

He didn't waver. "Okay, we both know that's not it – so why are you on my case?"

"Well," she started evenly, and she met his eyes. "It's not like I _care _about you or anything, right? So what would you expect?"

The sting in her voice took him by surprise, and it finally clicked.

"Sam...I-"

"Hey, guys" he heard Carly come up from behind them. "Spence is napping it off. I'm just glad he didn't throw up," she finished on a slight chuckle.

"Uh, everything alright?" she asked, when neither him or Sam acknowledged her statement.

"Just _fantastic_," Sam answered.

He sighed, but kept his mouth shut, as Carly just shrugged and turned the movie back on.

...

Her best friend was officially half asleep, the movie more than half over – and her: still _fully _peeved off.

"Sam-"

"You'll wake Carly," she interrupted. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about this now.

"Look, earlier - I didn't mean it like that-"

"Uh, _yeah_, you did," she countered. "It doesn't matter though, okay?" She took a breath, picking up her bag from the coffee table. "I'm gonna split."

"You know what?" he called after her, his voice raised. He turned around quickly to make sure Carly was still asleep before facing her again. "I did kind of mean it like that."

She stopped in her tracks, a few steps from making it to the door.

"But what am I supposed to think, Sam?"

She turned around and exhaled."I-"

"You're calling me names again, being as _violent _as you ever were – Sam you _tipped me_ off a couch this morning!"

"Yeah, well, Carls was just going _on_ about how _cute_ guys are when they're sleeping and then you were just _there _and I..."

His eyes bug open and she can tell he's fighting back a smug grin. He cleared his throat when she shot him a glare. "Okay, so what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything!" she almost shouted, and thankfully Carly didn't stir."You really don't get it, do you?" she asked, lowering her voice this time.

"Not even sort of."

She sighed. "I _have_ to act like this again-" She paused, dropping her bag to the floor, and running a hand through her hair. "Do you remember what we swore when we kissed...The first time."

"That we wouldn't tell anyone?" he asked, squinting.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, _that_ worked out well. And no, I mean the other thing - us going back, to, you know, hating each other or whatever."

He blinked. "Oh."

"I just - I needed things to go back to normal now too. I yell and insult you - you get annoyed and call me crazy..." She stopped and shrugged lightly. "Everyone's happy."

"You call this happy?" he asked lightly, though she wasn't amused.

"I'm sorry I've been a jerk," she relented, finally. She stared down at her shoes before looking up again. "It was just easier than-"

"Yeah," he cut her off, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I get it."

"Okay."

"Okay," he repeated. He motioned towards the couch. "Stay for the rest of the movie?"

"Yeah," she answered on a smile, walking back to the couch.

...

He had gotten a blanket big enough to cover the three off them before resuming his spot and adjusting the cushion behind him.

"I'm sorry too," he whispered. She faced him with a tired half smile. "About what I said. You not caring- I mean, I know things are different now-"

"Clearly," she cut in, but there's no malice in her tone.

"We'll find our way back," he mused and she immediately quirked an eyebrow.

"As friends," he explained and she nodded.

"Yeah."

They sat in a silence for a few moments before he faced her again.

"I was pretty freaked for a minute back there when Nora and her mom came at you, you know..."

She smiled softly and he's glad she got the message. "I can take care of myself," she answered.

He has half a mind to add, that with him around, well...he hopes she won't have to. He bit his tongue however, just responding, "I know."

"Thanks though," she murmured back and paused to look up at him. "It's good to know."

"So - we're good?"

She beamed and she suddenly slipped out from the under the blanket and walked towards the kitchen, opening the fridge.

"What are you getting?" he asked.

She just shushed him.

He rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to the movie when she came back with a single pudding cup.

Of course.

He lifted the blanket for her to sit back down, which she did, before handing him the extra spoon in her hand.

He stifled a laugh and nodded in thanks, and understanding.

Her eyes caught his and she graced him with a warm smile – the most genuine he'd seen from her in awhile.

He held her gaze for another second and then they both turned to the T.V, sharing the pudding cup in a comfortable silence.

As the credits roll later on, he found himself looking at her once more.

"There you go again with the staring, Benson," she said, though she's smirking this time.

"So, uh," he paused, a smirk of his own forming. "How cute was I, earlier?"

She scoffed, nearly choking on a bite of pudding and shook her head. "Yeah, we're good - but we're not that good."

He laughed and she turned towards him with a roll of her eyes, lightly elbowing him in the shoulder.

"Ow!" he whispered, hoarsely, feigning hurt. "Crazy."

Her eyes lit up and they both smiled, it dawning on him how wrong he was before.

Maybe things got to her for longer than he thought.

* * *

**Thoughts?:) **

**I'll be back with the proposal arc next! Glad you guys liked that last chapter with Pam.**


	9. The Proposal: The Art of Planning

**Hey there, folks! :) As promised, here's the proposal chapter. Though - it's essentially a flashback? Oh, well, you'll see when you read.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He'd always been a planner – it was just how he worked.

Freddie sat at the stairs of their apartment building with a heavy sigh, the cold of the night air turning his cheeks a soft red.

He was five when he got his first camera, a silly little Polaroid that he wouldn't put down.

Twelve when got his first computer, completely transfixed and overwhelmed with everything he could accomplish.

He'd never looked back since.

And twenty-four the moment he'd realized he was dating the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

...

They were sleeping in before their classes for the day – well, she had been sleeping while he aimlessly flipped through channels on their television.

He turned his head when she started to stir and blinked up at him groggily.

"Morning, Sunshine," he teased, when she emitted a small groan.

In response, she started to pull the blanket over her face.

Smiling, he tousled the ends of hair softly. "Sam, come on – we're probably already going to be late as is. We gotta get moving if we're going to grab breakfast."

She poked her head out from under the blanket and inched her body closer to him so she could effectively bury her head on his shoulder.

"Let's play hooky," she murmured.

He laughed and shook his head at her. "We can't ditch. At least I can't. I have that review today-"

She leaned her head back, greeting him with those light blue eyes, and rested her hand on his arm.

"Stay here with me."

He stopped for a second at her words.

A smile snuck on him and without a second thought he found himself sinking back down underneath the blanket, lacing his arm around her waist.

"The review can wait," he whispered.

He'd never know if was the soft inflection in her plea, her expectant eyes as she waited for an answer, or the sudden realization that he could get very used to this for many, many more mornings to come – but he'd made up his mind.

He was going to marry her.

So naturally, he started to plan.

First thing he did, of course, was call in the troops, Carls, being the first. His ears were still ringing from_ that_ conversation.

(His mom...it took a _bit_ longer to read in.)

Three jewelry stores later and his head was literally spinning – round cut, tear drop – how the hell was he supposed to decide?

Then Carly had told him to just_ breathe_ - close his eyes and relax; he'd know the right ring when he saw it.

It was a few more minutes of agonizing torture until he proved her right.

An amethyst stone with tiny diamonds around the band.

Perfectly Sam.

What was left now, was the where and when.

The answer came pretty naturally to him for the where – their apartment rooftop. After gruesome arguments, long talks, and countless late nights, it had somehow turned into their place.

And the Leonid meteor at the end of the week decided the when for him.

When that Thursday rolled around, he was a nervous wreck. She'd picked up on it, of course, asking him why he was being such a damn spaz.

"I was thinking dinner tomorrow night," he blurted out, completely bypassing her concern.

She laughed and shook her head, grabbing her jacket off the kitchen counter. "I think of dinner every night."

Sighing, he offered her an eye-roll. "_That_ I know. But I meant with me. You're not working late, are you?"

Sam hummed in thought before wrapping her scarf around her and taking a few steps towards where he was standing. "Pretty sure I can get someone to cover for me." Pausing she leaned into him and wrapped her arm around his side. "You gonna make it worth my while, Benson?"

He cleared his throat, hoping her jedi mind reading skills weren't working on him at the moment.

"That's the plan."

"Good," she answered with a curt nod, teasingly giving his chest a poke.

He smiled and released a breath as she kissed his cheek.

"See you after class, dude," she'd told him, grinning before heading out the door.

Standing there with the giant smile still on his face, he remembers that...He wasn't so nervous anymore.

_Until_ he'd started cooking the dinner Friday night.

It was getting increasingly harder to breathe and concentrate as the hours passed.

He laid everything out perfectly, brought out the wine and was just about to call her when his phone rang.

"Hey, Sam - you on your way?"

His face fell when he made out the loud music and voices in the background.

"_Yeah, um, about that-"_

"Uh, where are you?"

"_I sort of...stopped for drinks with Michelle and Annie after work- they roped me into it, I swear." _

He sat at the table, running a hand through his hair. "Right."

"_Oye, with the pouty voice,"_ she shot back.

"Wow." He shook his head. "You're giving _me_ grief right now? Sam, we had plans."

"_I won't be too much longer, all right? Relax." _

"I am perfectly relaxed," he told her, absently clutching at the dinner cloth in his hand. "I would just _appreciate_, if my girlfriend would show just a _little_ bit more consideration."

She laughed. _"What is the big deal? It's not like we don't have dinner together like every night-" _

"Sam - tonight was...I -" He stopped and took a breath. "Never mind."

"_Look, I gotta go, Michelle's about to break out into a rendition of 'I Feel Pretty' and things aren't looking quite so pretty." _

"Okay, but-"

"_Love you." _

And then all he heard was the click on the other line.

"Yeah...Love you too."

He stared at the lit candle, resting his arm back on the table.

Freddie may have been one for planning, but what he didn't take into account - was that _Sam_, however, was not.

Not wanting to go back inside just yet, as cold at it was, he just sighed and blew out the candle before slowly getting up and walking towards the small couch in the corner.

He wrapped his jacket around him before looking up and catching a glimpse of the first few meteors that fell.

"Babe-"

He'd blinked up hazily an hour or so later to see Sam sitting over him.

"Wake up there, Sunshine," she prodded, lowering her hand to cup his face.

He let out a half yawn, not making a move to sit up. "You're back."

"You're observant."

"How'd you know where I was?"

She shrugged. "Just guessed. When you weren't inside, I figured you'd be up here."

He just nodded in response, finally angling himself up to meet her at eye-level.

"So - what's all this?" she whispered, looking back at the table.

He huffed dryly and shook his head. "This was _supposed_ to be our dinner. Though I'm guessing it's a little cold now."

"I'm sorry-"

"Yeah, of course you are. You're always sorry."

Her hand that had settled on his leg, immediately moved. "Excuse me?"

"This is typical of you, Sam."

"Okay, _clearly_ you're still upset..."

"You're observant."

"I'm trying to apologize here!"

He crossed his arms, sitting back with a sigh. "Yeah, well, things don't always go according to plan, huh?" He took a breath. "Especially when _you're_ involved," he added, in a tired mumble.

"Seriously?" She sighed placing her hands on her lap. "You know what? I don't want to do this right now. It's late. I'm going to bed."

He groaned as she stood up and started to walk back to the door downstairs.

Biting his lip, he let his hand slide over his pocket, feeling the imprint of the ring inside.

He looked back up at her with a deep breath.

"Marry me?"

...

Freddie exhaled, the puff of breathy air manifesting in front of him, as he tried to clear his head of this thoughts.

They always did say the best laid plans of mice and men often went awry.

Clearly he should have listened.

He wasn't sure how much longer he'd been sitting outside when he heard the click of a pair of pumps above him.

"Hey, handsome."

She took a seat next to him, placing her hand on his knee.

"I'm done thinking now."

* * *

**Do we approve? :) Am I evil for leaving out how the rest of the conversation played out? **

**Next part shall arrive...soonish**. **;)**


	10. The Answer: The Art of Forever

**The final installment of this arc-woo!**

* * *

He blinked up at her. "You are?"

She laughed silently and shook her head, staring ahead before adjusting her gloves.

The night he'd proposed, she was _fairly_ certain the guy had lost all sembalance of reason.

And frankly, now she was sure they both had.

...

She had stopped cold in her tracks before turning to face him.

"I'm sorry – what? It _may _be the margaritas getting to me, but uh, did you just-"

He nodded from his position on the couch. "I did."

She couldn't help it; she laughed. "Well, that's one way to end a fight. I was just thinking make-up sex."

"Sam."

If she'd been paying closer attention, she probably would have seen this coming. His more than usual neurotic behavior, should have clued her in. (Then again, this is him.)

He looked the most vulnerable she'd ever seen him –- she's not quite sure what to do with that.

She opened her mouth to say..._something_, though just managed a puff of air.

He stood up slowly then started to walk towards her with a new determination in his eyes, and when exactly did her life turn into a chick flick?

"Hi," she whispered when he was just inches away from her.

"Hi."

He exhaled. "I'm gonna try this again, okay?" he told her, softly, his hand grazing her palm.

She just nodded (trying to breathe), words failing her again, as he got down on one knee.

"You, are the craziest, most stubborn, wonderfully_ amazing _person that I know." He bit his lip, reaching into his pocket to take out a ring.

Her breath had caught in her throat and she realized that breathing, just wasn't an option.

"So, I was wondering...Samantha Elizabeth Puckett, if you'll marry me?"

She laced her hair behind her ears before kneeling in front of him, placing her hands at his sides.

"You know how much I love you, right?"

He sneered quietly. "Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like what comes after that sentence?"

Taking his hands, she stood the two of them up before tugging her jacket tighter around her.

"Freddie...I-" The look in his eyes made her pause again. "You are aware of how insane this is, right?...We haven't even finished grad school–"

"I know."

"We're both working _part_ time-"

"I know that too."

"I mean, in a few years..." She ran a hand behind her neck. "How could you possibly know that you'll still...That you'll want to-"

"Sam," he interrupted her again, leaning in so his forehead was just barely touching hers. "I know," he whispered.

"I'll always know."

Before she could protest he leaned in the rest of the way and kissed her softly, melting any thoughts out her brain.

"The only question now is – will you?"

He reached for her hand to upturn her palm, placing the ring, that she noted was amethyst, her favorite stone, inside her hand before lightly pressing her fingers closed.

"Benson," she exhaled in a hoarse whisper.

"Hold on to it, okay? And just think it over."

She nodded slowly, before taking his hand to lead him back inside.

Once in their room she let go to place the ring in her jewelry box before she met him by where he was standing.

"I'm sorry I missed dinner," she hummed into his ear.

She kicked off her shoes, her gaze not leaving his, before she kissed him and gently ushered him backwards to the bed.

The next few days had felt like there was an elephant in the room. A giant purple elephant. With spots. Named Clem.

He didn't bring it up, neither did she...But the _way_ he didn't bring it up – being so cautious, trying not to push her – it only made it worse.

She'd met with Carly for lunch, who although was understanding (as usual), couldn't quite grasp her hesitation.

Why would she?

He was freakishly,_ annoyingly_, perfect and was willing to put up with her...for the rest of his life.

That thought had lead to more margaritas with the girls.

When class let out early Thursday, she'd come home to find him pouring over his paper from on the couch, his textbooks sprawled out over the coffee table.

She smiled and tugged at the ring, now on a chain around her neck, and angled herself on the cushion beside him.

The idea of loving someone that much, enough for forever – it wasn't one that she was used to.

And it absolutely terrified her.

"Hey," he murmured, looking up from his laptop. "Ordered us pizza." He smiled and motioned his head towards the kitchen.

"Then what are we still doing sitting here, Benson?"

He laughed as she pulled him up before he kissed her forehead.

What she was terrified _most _of, was screwing it up.

It felt like she was always just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She'd gotten a call from Melanie a day or so later, letting her know she'd be in town to visit their mom and "it would be oh-so-great," to see her. Oye.

But then she thinks it might be exactly what she needed.

He stood brushing his teeth before bed when she came up behind him and tugged on his dark grey t-shirt.

"Mel's home."

Facing her after he spat in the sink, he rose an eyebrow at her. "You going to see her?"

She nodded. "That would be the plan."

He put his toothbrush down and moved a step closer. "And does this have anything to do with, you know, the question I asked you that we're still not talking about?"

"No," she told him flatly. "I'm just going home for the weekend, okay? Let's not make this a thing."

She watched him roll his eyes, clearly not convinced before he brushed past her, shaking his head.

"Bull."

"Excuse me?" she asked, following him back into the bedroom.

"You're running away, Sam!" He exhaled and ran his hand behind his neck.

"I told you, I just still need to think!"

"Listen," he told her, the bite from his tone gone. "I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise. But, I thought that..." He trailed off, apparently unaware of how to proceed and she walked over to him, draping her hands over his shoulders.

"I didn't say no, Freddie," she whispered.

"You haven't exactly said yes either."

She smiled palely before shaking her head at him. "Why would you wanna go and marry me anyway?"

He laughed quietly and leaned his head down. "So I can kiss you anytime I want."

And then he did.

The second she walked through the doors she'd immediately realized this was a mistake. (She could barely breathe through Melanie's tight hug.)

Her sister instantly started in on the questions once she caught sight of the ring.

Sam ignored her best she could...but this was_ Mel,_ so clearly that wasn't too much of an option.

"So, you're still thinking?" she asked, squinting as if she were trying to look through her.

"Is that not what I just said?" She rolled her eyes halfheartedly. "For someone getting their masters in psych, you don't listen too well."

Melanie sighed at her. "Yeah, I missed you too, Sam." She paused adjusting the pillows on the couch so she could shift closer. "I'm just trying to help."

"I'm fine," she answered. "I'll figure it out."

"Whatever you say, Samantha Elizabeth." She got up from the couch, her hand resting on her shoulder before she'd started to walk towards the stairs.

"Glad you're seeing things my way, Melanie _Alexandra,_" she shot back.

Things got worse before they got better once her mom was home. She's snapped out of her gaze at the fridge to find both her and her sister hoovering.

Yeah, home was without a doubt mistake.

It took a while for it to click after that –– she'll be the first to admit she's a _little s_low on the uptake when it comes to all things emotional.

But she gets it now, why she's so terrified.

Why she feels her and Freddie are somehow destined to fail.

The thing with her mom and her parents, she's tried to tell herself that's she's over it –– and she is, mostly –– but every now and then these thoughts creep up into her subconscious and refuse to leave her the hell alone.

The thoughts that tell her she'll end up just like Pam.

Alone.

She's also reminded now that she's not her mom and she doesn't have to accept that fate if she doesn't want to. (She doesn't.)

"Hey, Mel-" She knocked on the door of their old bedroom. After a few seconds she heard a mumbled 'come in,' and she slid in the room and over to the bed and joined her.

"I'm sorry."

"What was that, Sam?" she teased.

She wasn't about to say it again, so instead she just offered her sister a well intended glare, slightly elbowing her.

"I think I've got an answer for him now."

Mel just gave her a knowing look and a warm smile.

...

"Wanna know a secret, Benson?" she asked, turned towards him again now.

He half laughed with a sniffle, his nose as red as his cheeks from the frigid air. "Sure."

"I think you've always scared me –– even when we were little. More than I scared you, maybe."

"How's that even possible?" He tugged on her scarf, punctuating the gesture with a smile.

"You've just always been so sure," she continued, attempting to explain. "Of who you are, what you wanted. Of everything, really. Me...Not so much."

"Sam-"

"And then you just had to go and get under my skin and make me fall for you, making things _even worse_ –– I hate you for that by the way," she added.

He tilted his head, nodding thoughtfully. "...I'm sorry?"

"You should be," she let him know, smirking. "Because I don't do well with fear. Makes me all itchy."

She took a breath and ran her hand through the base of his hair "And I guess a part of me has been terrified ever since we got together that one day you'll, I don't know...come to your senses and start running."

"We're not your parents, Sam," he answered, softly.

She snickered, shaking her head at his ability to see right through her, as always.

"And if I'm running anywhere –– you're coming with me."

"I get that now," she whispered, taking a hold of his jacket collar.

"Yeah?"

"Always."

He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. "Always."

"So..." She shifted back with an expectant look. "Go on..."

He laughed, obviously catching on as she slipped the ring back into his hand. He held it up with a growing smile before catching her gaze.

"Marry me?"

"Hmmm..."

She bit her lip in mock though and he gave her his best glare.

"Yes, Freddie." She wrapped her arms around his neck, beaming. "I will marry you."

He leaned in to kiss her and smiled against her lips, and right then, was the surest she'd ever been about anything in her life.

* * *

**Ta-dah. :) Thinking of sprinkling pieces of this story-line throughout. I.E the events leading up to the wedding and such. Thoughts? **


	11. Closing Time

**Another tag. Because I had to. I...can't even pretend to understand what Dan is doing - so this happened. **

**A little different from things I've written, a lot more expository than usual. Hope it works. :)**

* * *

**_Turn the lights up over every boy and every girl. _**

**_Closing time, _**

**_One last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer. _  
**

**_Closing time, _  
**

**_You don't have to go home but you can't stay here._  
**

* * *

She blinked up from wiping off the counter to see him walking towards her.

Well, so much for a night alone to collect her thoughts. (Introspection was never really her thing anyway.)

"We're closed, Benson." She shrugged. "I'd tell you to read the sign..._but_ we don't have one yet."

He half laughed and pulled up a stool to sit by the counter. "Yeah, the empty tables kind of gave that away."

She gave a him look still expecting him to explain why he was here. "So..."

It was his turn to shrug. "I, uh, I heard you guys were actually almost closed for good."

She nodded, absently playing with the dishtowel. "Oh, it was no big chiz. Good ole Ted had our backs."

He grinned. "Gotta love him."

She scoffed and turned her back for a minute, placing a stray glass on the tray that was behind her.

"Yeah, you seem to love a lot of people," she mumbled, the words tumbling out of her mouth without her consent.

She was sure she could feel Freddie's eyes on her back.

"Excuse me?"

She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "Nothing."

"Sam-"

Turning around with a sharp inhale of breath she cut him off. "Weren't you studying tonight? With Carls?" She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Really she did.

"Why are you here?"

"I-"

She propped her elbow on the counter, resting her hand under chin waving him on to continue.

"I don't know," he finally finished.

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes and stood up straight again. "That's what I thought. So, in that case, I'm sure you'll have no problem moseying right on out."

She stopped and gestured towards the door. "I have to finish closing up."

She broke eye contact and took a step to walk away before he grabbed her wrist from across the counter.

"_Sam_, stop-"

"Stop. What?"

"I just - I came to talk," he answered. "Can we just _talk_?"

She perused her lips, tilting her head. "I honestly can't think of anything we have to talk about."

"You're upset."

"Is there a reason I should be?" She's daring him to be the first to say something.

He ran a hand through his hair, takes a beat. "I guess not," he settled on.

Of course he chooses not to.

She wasn't sure if she's more angry or relieved.

"...Sorry I bothered you."

"You've been bothering me years," she returned, with an empty smile. (Neither of them buy it.) "Used to it."

"Right." She watched him start to leave and _Goddamn_ him to hell and back for the sudden ache in her chest.

He doesn't get to do this.

He doesn't get to come here to stir things up, confuse– hurt her –– even more and then walk away.

Freddie does _not_ get to break her heart again.

"You know what? You wanna talk – let's talk."

He stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly towards her. "It did upset you, didn't it? What you asked before?"

She extended her hands outward, albeit over dramatically. "Well give the boy a prize, ladies and gentleman. We have a winner."

Honestly, she's over the games. Over pretending and the lies. To him –– to herself.

After everything they'd been through, she thought they both were.

_(Isn't that what 'I love you' s are for?)_

There's a softness in his eyes as he sat back down and she really, really wishes she could learn to hate him.

"I-I didn't think it would. Not really."

She raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. He's many things but, _dense_ was never one of them.

"I mean, you're fawning over 'hot guys' again and hanging all over boy band members..." He stopped to meet her eyes. "I just assumed-"

She shook her head. "It's not the same."

He doesn't say anything else, just looked down at his shoes she pressed on.

"You tell me that you wouldn't be swooning in that _oh so Freddie_ way of yours over some celebrity chick that came on the show? Does Shelby Marx not ring a bell?"

"We weren't dating then."

"We're not dating now!"

Her words hung in the air, the reality of saying it out loud – finally talking about it – striking the loudest silence she'd ever experienced.

"Then why are we having this conversation?" he finally whispered back.

He's the one daring now. Pushing her to talk.

Say something. _Say anything. _

"I..." She trailed off biting her lip. What_ can_ she say?

She has no claim to him anymore.

_(Isn't that what 'I love you' s are for?)_

"Like I said Benson, it's not the same."

"Why?"

Does she really need to spell this out for him?

"Freddie, it's _Carly," _she breathed, her voice nearly inaudible to even herself.

She hoped she wouldn't have to say more – that he of all people would get it.

That he'd understand.

Sam loves Carly more than anyone but––

After Jonah, after countless years of _always_ being looked past in lieu of her best friend –– after years watching _him _chase after her – knowing that she had always been second best...It_ cuts_.

That sting...he'd been the one to heal it; the night he'd kissed her.

The night he'd made her believe that she was worth falling for.

Made her believe that someone _could_ put her first.

(When no one else had.)

_(Isn't that what 'I love you' s are for?)_

And now...she's left with that wound open, feeling played, sure he's thinking that he had it right the first time around.

That it's been _Carly_ all along.

She watched the realization wash over his face and then darted her eyes down to a random spot on the counter.

"Oh, God, Sam -" He stood up after a second and walked around to meet her where she's standing.

"A crush isn't the same thing as– I mean, what you and I had..."

His voice tapered off and she tried to gather his meaning. She wants to believe he's telling the truth...

She doesn't know if she could handle it if she had been just his consolation prize.

He bit his lip, and nodded slowly, before taking a long breath. "I was never _in_ love with her, Sam – it wasn't like..." He stepped closer and her own breath hitched. "With us."

She gulped, nodded back. "But you do..._like_ her again?"

Why she wants to know, why she's intent on hurting herself, she has no idea.

Her closed shut, braced for the answer.

"I...I'm not sure," was his response. "Not really sure of anything right now, to be honest."

She laughed dryly.

That makes two of them.

"Hey," he continued to make her look back at him. "Even if I-" He paused. "I wouldn't go there."

She's unconvinced. "Come on, dude, if Carly woke up tomorrow and suddenly-"

"She wouldn't."

"But if-"

"Wouldn't do that to you," he insisted, softly. "_Couldn't._"

His proximity is suddenly unnerving and she's fighting to breathe.

"And no matter what happens going forward – or whoever I end up dating –" He stopped for a beat, his hand moving to just barely ghost over hers that's still leaning on counter.

"It's not going to take away from...What we were to each other."

_Were_. Not _are_.

And the truth is like a splash of cold water to the face, accompanied by a punch in the gut.

"Great," she answered, moving away to face forwards. "Got it. We're good, okay? You don't have to feel guilty or whatever."

He opened his mouth to cut in but she doesn't stop. "Let's just...move on, all right?"

_He_ certainly has already.

She could see him looking at her through the corner of her eye and at the moment she wants nothing more for a hole in the basement to swallow her up.

"I'm sorry," he pressed on, obviously ignoring her plea. "If I made you think..."

She turned her head, faced him again.

"I'm glad we went out, Sam. I don't regret any of it. Or anything...I said."

He gave her a soft smile, bright and wide –– reminiscent of the ones he'd always save just for her.

It still makes her melt.

"Yeah, well..." She shuffled her feet and looked up at him through her lashes. "Ditto"

They stand in silence before he cleared his throat.

"So...what now?" he questioned.

Closure maybe? A new start?

(But what if she still wants to go back?)

She just shrugged before turning back to reach the pitcher of lemonade along with two clean glasses.

His eyes widen and he grinned at her.

She poured him a glass, smiling back, and then brushed her hair out of her face to look at him.

"We can stay open a little bit longer."

_(Isn't that what 'I love you' s are for?)_

* * *

**_Closing time_, **

**_Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end._**


	12. In Love and War

His reactions were_ really_ starting to get on her nerves.

More and more lately, he'd roll those chocolate brown eyes of his, smirking, thumbs in his pockets.

So, she upped her game...Which may or may not have included itching powder, and a frog (or three) in his locker.

Nada.

He even had the nerve to laugh it off. _The jerk. _

That Thursday morning she'd walked into math wearing her black knit tank top and her new skinny jeans –- that happened to fit her _very_ well. When Rivera asked her up to the board, she happily agreed, making sure to walk by _extra_ slowly past her target, a quick glance back around before attacking the problem on the board. She made a mental note of the way his eyes swelled up like a bugs'.

Maybe she could still get to him after all...

When lunch time came around, she had sat down waiting for Carly to get out of student council, before he approached her slowly. He'd bent down over her shoulder, brushing back her hair behind her ears, whispering just _how good _he thought those jeans looked on her. And before she could even process what was happening, the feel of his breath against her neck, the _smug _look on his face, and the sudden acceleration of her heart beat –– he was gone.

He was _so_ not going to get away with this.

Sunday night they were all sprawled out on Carly's couch watching the movie of the week, which she really had no interest in. She looked over to see her best friend dosing off and decided now was the perfect time for retaliation. Smiling, she rustled underneath the blanket they were sharing, adjusting herself, accidentally-but-completely-not brushing her hand over his knee. When he suddenly, gulped, she kept her eyes fixed on the T.V, and mentally tallied the score. 2-1, baby. She plays to win.

Unfortunately for her, she might have taught him a little _too _well, because he didn't seem to be giving up that easily. Killing time before homeroom later that week, he casually suggested they arm wrestle, and she nearly laughed in face, because really - who was he kidding? She nodded and sighed, accepting the challenge. Game. On. Before she can blink he started to roll up his sleeves ever-so-slowly. She cleared her throat, trying to focus and he extend his arm out. He had this _like-what-you-see? _look about him, that made her want to smack him. She tried to concentrate on the match - really she did - but when he's looking all _buff _like that, the whole thinking thing kind of went out the window.

Freaking hormones.

They were back at Carly's (when are they not) when she decided she was going to end this once and for all. (No way was she going to break.) She stood up slowly, tying her hair up in a lose ponytail, exposing her shoulders. Turning around, she batted her eye-lashes, and as sweetly as possible – well, as sweetly as she ever was – asked if he was hungry. She didn't even have to turn around to see that he'd followed her into the kitchen. "Very," was the response she heard muttered as she stood by the fridge. She made sure he was behind her and then carefully bent down to reach the yogurt at the bottom compartment. There was a pained sigh and she smirked.

Score.

Until she suddenly felt him standing closer behind her – way _too_ close– and she had no choice but to straighten herself up. (As slowly as possible – because she was_ not_ going down without a fight.) He put his hand around her waist, and turned her around so she was facing him, pressed up against the fridge. He whispered that it was her move and stepped closer. _Damn him_.

And then she kissed him.

She felt him smirk against her lips, and she simply tugged on his t-shirt, pulling him towards her. They broke apart and he gently pushed past her and opened the fridge to grab a soda. He raised his eye-brow at her, with a grin, _I win_ written all over his face.

Yeah, his reactions were _definitely_ getting on her nerves. (But somehow she was okay with that.)


	13. Stephanie

**So, here we have a canon/my little iCarly universe blend. Canon, in that we see Freddie's cousin Stephanie from iPie (now about 3 and a half), but set in my time-line around the chapter Shut Up and Drive (towards the end of their junior year). Sam is still with her boyfriend and...yeah. Hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

She ran out of the shower at the sound of her phone ringing, attempting not to trip over her clothes as she grabbed her towel and scrambled into her bedroom.

A ring too late, she got to her nightstand just in time to see the 'one missed call' and 'one new voice mail,' notifications.

"Hey, Sam- I- Uh, how are you?"

She barely managed to stifle a laugh at what she could already tell was going to be a very, very amusing voice mail.

"I'm actually here with-" She heard him mutter a 'no, no, please, stay out of there-,' before he pressed on. "With my cousin, Stephanie - and she's – God, I have no idea what I doing...My mom's at her shift for the night and –the kid's driving me crazy, Sam! I- just...If you could...maybe come over? Please. I'll owe you forever - Ah, Stephie - please don't - With the juice...Oh _man_..."

And now Sam was in out right hysterics.

She was so saving this message.

Looking at the clock, she bit her lip and sighed before getting dressed.

He was most_ definitely _going to owe her.

...

"Stephie-"

It had been ten minutes of chasing her around the apartment before he finally got her to stay still at the table to eat her dinner –– only to have her refuse to eat any of it.

"How about an airplane? Hm?"

Always worked for him as a kid.

He held out the spoon in front of him, making a loud whooshing sound, inching ever so closely to her mouth...

Before she swatted the spoon full of green beans out of his hand and onto the floor.

"That's for baaaabies!"

He looked up at the sound of a knock at the door and sighed glancing back at pouting three year old.

"Please just...stay here, Stephie," he told her running to the door.

Opening the door he took a quick look at who it was, exhaling in appreciation.

Two thoughts ran through his head, _thank God_ she's here and -

"Your hair is wet."

She glared. "That really the first thing you wanna say to me right now?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. Hi. I - you're a saint for helping, Sam. Seriously."

Smiling now, she brushed passed him into the apartment. "Who said I'm here to help? Maybe I'm just here to see the little rugrat get the better of you."

He let out a sigh. "I'm glad my predicament is amusing to you."

She turned back around to face him. "Hey, uh, Benson...Where's the kid?"

He blinked and looked passed her towards the now empty chair at the kitchen table.

_Oh, not again._

"She likes to play hide and seek," he huffed. "Minus the seeking."

Sam snickered at him. "Noticed."

She took a step forward and quickly scanned the apartment around her. Her eyes settled on a flash of pink fabric from behind the teal curtains by the far left window.

A tiny head peeked out, revealing the brown haired preschooler covering her lips with her pointer finger whispering a quiet, "sshhh."

Trying not to laugh, she nodded back, and cleared her throat. "Um, maybe you should, uh, check the guest bathroom?"

"Stephie!" Freddie called down the hallway, Sam biting back a smirk. "Stephanie, come out please! You need to finish your dinner..."

Sam watched as he trailed off and disappeared into the bathroom looking for his cousin. "The bedroom?" she offered. "Kids like to hide under the bed, you know."

"You could help look, Sam," she heard him groan as he stepped out of the bathroom and back towards where she was standing.

She tilted her head innocently. "Didn't I already tell you I wasn't here to help? Keep up, Benson."

Their heads turned at the sound of a giggle and when Freddie snapped his neck back in her direction she's met with a half glare as she busted out laughing.

"Really, Sam? Here for a minute and already conspiring against me?"

She flashed a sly a grin. "I work fast."

"Clearly."

"Um, that supposed to mean something?"

Before she could get her answer the little girl came running up to her, tugging at the bottom of the purple hoodie she threw over her jeans when she'd left in a hurry.

She smiled, squatting down to meet her at eye level. "You," she spoke softly, gently poking the girl's stomach, "are a very good hider, kid."

Freddie caught himself smiling at the two of them before his cousin pointed an accusatory little finger in his direction.

"Freddie didn't wanna play with me!" she whined, now turned back towards Sam.

"Hey!" He rose his hands in defense while Sam "tisk, tisked," him trying to suppress a grin –– and failing.

"I told you we could play after you ate your dinner," he explained.

"He's boring."

He groaned and Sam let out a laugh. "Oh, I like this girl already."

He rolled his eyes while Sam refocused her attention on Stephanie.

"My name's Sam, Little Missy." She smiled. "You wanna know something?"

Stephanie nodded. "Mmhm."

"I met you, when you were just a tiny, tiny baby. And guess what?"

"What?" she answered, brightly.

Sam covered the side of her mouth, away from his direction. "You thought he was boring then too," she stage whispered.

The little girl giggled.

"I heard that, Sam."

"You were supposed to," she sing-songed with a smile. "Say – are there any pies around? We could always –"

"Don't you dare," he interrupted, though now laughing himself.

"Come on, Squirt," he pleaded, (something he'd called her since she was born) getting down to kneel next to them. "Mommy and Aunt Marissa are not going to be happy if they hear you didn't eat anything."

She shook her head at him, letting him know, "veggies are yucky!"

He looked at Sam helplessly, who was now standing and offering a shrug. "Kid's got a point."

He glared. "Sammy."

He sighed as Sam bent down again, toying with a loose strand of Stephie's curly hair. "How about we play for a bit and then we find you something not yucky to eat?"

He watched Stephanie's face scrunch up in thought before she nodded. "Mmmkay."

Finally.

Sam flashed Freddie a smirk of triumph before she picked the little girl up. "So, what's the plan, hmm? We could color?"

"Nu-uh."

"Mmm," she hummed. "A story?"

Stephanie's brunette ringlets swished around as she shook her head. "That's for bedtime!"

Sam laughed. "You're killing me here, kid." She thought for a second before an idea struck.

"Uh oh, Sam – I don't like that look..."

"How about," she started, "adjusting the girl's position on her hip, "we play dress up? I bet Aunt Marrissa has a lot of fun stuff-"

Freddie cut her off with a sharp look. "Sam, you are _not_ letting her into my mom's stuff. She'll freak."

"Added bonus?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, Sam."

"You know, I could always leave..."

He put his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right," he caved, and her smile broadened. "Just...don't break anything."

She tickled Stephanie's stomach before she batted her eyelashes at him. "No promises."

Freddie groaned, taking a step to follow them when Sam whipped her head back in his direction. "Uh-uh, Benson. You''ll ruin the surprise." She turned to his cousin. "Can't have that, right, Munchkin?"

Stephanie nodded gravely with a laugh. "Right!"

He shook his head in defeat, sending Sam a sharp glare for good measure.

He sat on the couch, trying not to worry over the sounds of them rumbling around his mother's closet.

This...was a horrible idea.

...

Twenty minutes of clanking, rattling, and squealing later, and he blinked up to see the girls walking back into the living room.

Stephanie now in a pair of his mom's old silver aviators -three sizes too big for her little face - over her eyes, a pink silk scarf wrapped around her neck, bright red lip stick on, paired with matching blush and her hair in pig-tail french braids

He broke out into a smile, looking at Sam wearing his mom's red and blue blazer with a long pearl necklace and dangling silver earrings, red heels and an old black fedora that he'd used in a web video a while back.

Stephanie ran up to him and climbed up onto his lap. "Ta-da!, she announced, sunnily. "Don't we look pretty?"

He nodded in approval as she squiggled to get comfortable. "Yup." He looked back up at Sam with a curve of his lips. "Always do."

Sam rolled her eyes good naturally and cleared her throat before joining them at the couch. She hummed in mock thought, twirling the end of one of Stephanie's braids.

"Hey, you know –– now that we're all dressed up – we need to go somewhere extra fancy-"

Freddie opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. "How about we go to a nice restaurant?"

"Sam-"

"And cousin Freddie can be our waiter."

She watched as her plan finally clicked in his head and smiled along with him.

"That," he mused, "is a brilliant idea."

"The only kind I have," she reminded him.

...

"So, ladies, what can I interest you in this evening?"

Sam choked back a laugh at Freddie with a napkin folded over his arm in true waiter form, with a black clip-on bow tie attached to his button down shirt.

"Pizza!" Stephanie cheered.

Yeah, she definitely liked this kid.

"I second that, oh kind waiter of ours," she piped in with a grin.

Freddie shot a look her way. "I'm sorry, I don't think that's offered on our menu."

"You are_ such_ a kill joy," she informed him. "You still have those Tyson chicken nuggets in the freezer?"

He nodded. "Think so."

"Great." She turned to Stephanie now. "What do you say, kid? Nuggets okay?"

Her tiny face lighting up was all the answer Sam needed.

Freddie smiled. "You know, I'm lucky you were free tonight."

"Yeah." She cleared her throat and stood up, brushing her hand over Stephanie's hair. "You weren't that lucky."

...

He stood behind her while she arranged the nuggets (and green beans) on the plate –- pointedly not looking in his direction.

"Sam, what did you mean before?"

Silence.

"Sam -?"

She turned her head around slightly. "I wasn't free," she told him matter-of-factly."I was getting ready to meet Jay when I got your voice mail."

He froze. "Wait –" He exhaled and shook his head as she started to move across the kitchen. "You cancelled a date? To come_ here_? And _babysit_?"

She put the plate in the microwave and finally faced him. "No, instead I_ finally_ mastered the technology allowing me to be in two places at once. The other me is actually bowling right now."

He took a few steps in her direction to meet her where she was standing. She turned around tapping her fingers on the counter. "You didn't have to do that, you know," he told her, resting his hand on her waist to get her attention.

There was a sharp inhale of breath at the contact and she instantly turned around. "Well you sounded _pretty _pathetic in that message," she informed him, trying to tease him. "Someone had to save your ass."

"Language, Sam," he retorted with a smirk. He gestured towards the table. "Little ears."

She rolled her eyes.

"And look, I am sorry about your plans."

She nodded with a raise of an eyebrow. "That so?"

"Of course. I mean – if I had known-"

"Oh come on Freddie, we both know you don't like him anyway."

He shrugged. "I never said that."

"Mhmm," she answered, less than convinced. "And what was that 'clearly' about earlier?"

He sighed, running his hand through the hair at this base of neck. "I like the guy fine, okay? I just – you guys have been moving pretty fast, pretty quickly – and –"

"And what?"

"I'm just not sure he's your type," he finished on a quick breath.

"Oh," she nodded in mock pensiveness. "You're right. You mean a good looking, smart, football player with abs of steel...Why ever would I be interested?"

He tilted his head at her. "Sam."

She opened the microwave to get out Stephanie's plate and then walked over to him. " You can save the over protective big brother routine," she whispered. "I got this."

Before he could open his mouth to reply she'd started to walk over to the table.

"Oh, and don't forget her apple juice."

He just sighed.

...

"Stay still, rugrat," she laughed, pulling the pink polka-dotted pajama shirt over Stephanie's head.

"How we doing, Squirt?" she heard Freddie ask from behind them.

After they successfully fed her her dinner –-even some of the vegetables – it was another battle before they convinced her to change into her p.j.s and brush her teeth before they read her a story. (Though she refused to take off Marissa's scarf and the sunglasses were currently sitting at the top of her head.)

"Good!' Stephanie chuckled, running up to him as Sam stood up.

She grabbed the book his aunt had left them and Stephanie dragged Freddie over with one hand over to take a hold of her hand as well.

She blinked up to see Freddie looking at her and she tilted her head with a teasing smile. "What?"

He shrugged, a hand in his pocket. "Nothing – you're just...You're really good with her."

Without warning her face flushed at the compliment and she found herself not able to break eye contact with him.

"_Come on!_" Stephanie ordered, snapping them out of the silence.

Sam cleared her throat and looked down. "All right, all right, we're going," she told her on a laugh.

"Story time," Stephanie cheered pulling them towards the door frame.

...

"'What if it were an invisible shark? An invisible_ killer_ shark that escaped from a secret, invisible laboratory that makes secret invisible sharks,"said Dinkin,'" Freddie read punctuating the sentence with a fake gasp, eliciting a giggle from the little one wedged in between them.

He passed her the book, indicating with a nod that it was her turn.

"Oh, I think your father checked for invisible sharks." said his mom," Sam started with a smile. "'Did he use the De-Invisibilizer?' said Dinkin suspiciously. Of course I did, said Dinkin's dad, cheerfully."'

Sam stopped to tap Stephane's nose lightly. "I de-invisiblized the whole house this morning, didn't I, Mrs. Dings?"'

They continued reading _Dinkin Dings and the Frightening Things, _to her until Sam noticed that she'd started to nod off. She tugged at Freddie's t-shit to point down to her with a smile.

"How come she didn't fall asleep when you were reading?" he asked half-pouting.

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ears with a smirk. "Because you're boring, remember?"

Inching against the back cushion, she made herself comfortable before unlacing the scarf from around Stephanie's neck and resting it behind her.

"She hates me," he mused on a silent laugh, adjusting his position on the couch as well and putting down the book.

"Oh, she does not. She adores you," she informed him, tracing circles on her shoulder. "She just likes giving you a hard time for kicks."

He grinned. "That go for you too?"

She yawned, too sleepy herself to attempt to roll her eyes. "The latter for sure."

She heard him scoff and he got up to grab a blanket from the downstairs closet while her eye lids started to feel even heavier.

Freddie sat back down, covering them – Stephanie now huddled against Sam in a little ball against her chest.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks, you know for-"

She smiled at him, her eyes fluttering closed. She raised a pointer finger. "Ahem," she whispered, interrupting him. "What did I say?"

"Right," he laughed, quietly. "Not helping."

He took a breath. "And about what I said in the kitchen –" He opened and closed his mouth several times trying to decide the best way to finish his thought. "All that matters is that you're happy, all right?"

"Mhmm."

"I don't I know – I guess lately I've been –" He stopped and sighed. Whatever he was about to say was moot as he looked over to see that she'd fully fallen asleep.

He pulled the blanket further over both her and his cousin, his last thought before he soon drifted off as well–– was that his aunt and Stephanie would have to visit more often.

* * *

**So, what do we think? :)**


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